Bored Blooregard
by Cartoonsey DeJubbyjub
Summary: Bloo gets bored and goes wandering through Foster's only to find himself in a very peculiar place. Rated T because of hinted naughty words. XD I can't believe I just said that...I don't know when this will be updated.
1. Discovery!

Bored Blooregard A "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" fanfiction.  
Written by Cartoonsey DeJubbyjub  
  
Disclaimer: All I own are Toast, the hallway, and a bar of chocolate. Craig McCracken is, without a doubt, a genius.

This is my first ever "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" fanfiction. Please bear with me.

* * *

Bloo boredly wandered through the lengthy halls of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. There had to be _something_ to do around here. The small, blue, imaginary friend had already played five games of tag with Coco, three games of hide and seek with Eduardo and Coco, and had attempted one game of basketball with Coco, Eduardo, and Wilt. That hadn't been the best decision they had ever made. After repeatedly missing the laundry basket Wilt had set up for the group to play with, Bloo had become so frustrated that he'd thrown the ball with all of his strength at the wall.  
  
Unfortunately, Frances had been passing by at that moment and had swiftly found herself with a nasty lump on the back of her head and a much smaller amount of patience for Bloo's natural mischief-making abilities. The entire quartet had fled the immediate area and sought refuge in their bedroom for all of one minute before the smallest had announced he was going to find something to amuse himself with. Wilt had kindly reminded Bloo to stay out of Frances's path until she decided to calm herself and her temper. Coco suggested he offer to help the woman with her chores to get back on her good side. Bloo had bluntly commented his thoughts on the idea and earned a ruffled look from the wacky, imaginary friend, a shocked one from Wilt, and a wail of sorts from the remaining member of the group. It was then that he left the room after an embarrassed apology and an uncomfortable silence that went on for two minutes.  
  
That brought Mac's best idea back to the present moment. Bewilderment passed through Blooregard Q. Kazoo. Where in the name of flapjacks was he?  
  
This particular hall was a strange, blurry, silvery-blue color, and all of the doors had green, red, purple, or white doorknobs. The lone imaginary friend looked back in the direction he had just come from. None of the doors or doorknobs down that way looked normal, either, and Bloo could not see the end of the hall.  
  
'How long have I been down here?' he wondered to himself.  
  
Deciding to ask the residents of the rooms with the odd doors how to get back to the familiar section of the house, Bloo opened the door nearest to him on his right. For the rest of his life, he would always remember which door it was he opened first because the experience later creeped the heck out of him. Inside of the seemingly strange and dark but not at all dangerous room came a cheerful, if not loud, bit of music that the small, imaginary friend was pretty sure he had heard on a commercial for chocolate a year or so ago. Also inside of the residence was a small, brown and tan, imaginary friend who bore resemblance to a cross between a mutant fairy and a mutant kitten.  
  
She looked up from the book she was reading, the chocolate commercial song ended, and a new classical sounding one began. There was a pause during which the two imaginary friends studied one another. The feline, imaginary friend was about Bloo's height, and her room was decorated with photographs, portraits, paintings, and sketches of a wide variety of subjects not a few of which included a younger Mr. Herriman, a smaller Frances, and a much, much younger Madame Foster. When the more blue of the two realized he had been staring at the more feline of the two for the past ten minutes non-stop, a blush raced across his face, and a foreign and not exactly pleasant feeling flooded his stomach. An upbeat song was playing now. However, Blooregard Q. Kazoo, regardless of his former boredom, did not feel like dancing.  
  
The female, feline, imaginary friend stopped the music with a flick of one of her two twice-split tails and, with the same tail, switched the music to a different station. A light, cheerful tune accompanied by the singing voices of a young male or two who didn't seem to have been able to be bothered with coming up with a more complex chorus than "mm-" and some random verb filled the air.  
  
There was yet another pause, though this one was much more uncomfortable for Bloo.  
  
"You dance?" the female, imaginary friend asked of him suddenly.  
  
He looked blankly at her for several moments before responding.  
  
"...Huh?"  
  
"You dance?" the other repeated the question.  
  
"Uh, sometimes, I guess, when Mac wants to," Bloo answered.  
  
"Your creator still keeps you, huh?" the feline fairy questioned as she read.  
  
"Sorta," was the response. "His mom wanted me gone, so I stay here and won't get adopted as long as he visits everyday."  
  
The brown and tan, imaginary friend looked up from her book again and seemed to think before saying as she switched the music again, "You want to get back to the 'normal' part of Foster's."  
  
Blooregard Q. Kazoo, for once in his fairly short, loud-mouthed life, was speechless.  
  
"Go back the way you came," the music-switching, imaginary friend explained. "Don't think about it."  
  
"Just get your butt out of my doorway and do it."  
  
"Before I decide to keep you as a pet."  
  
...He stared.  
  
"...Do the words 'permanently trapped in a living nightmare' mean anything to you?"  
  
"I was just kinda wondering..." Bloo trailed off as he blushed and felt idiotic.  
  
"Yes, chibi no aoi?"  
  
He opened his mouth and then shut it in temporary bewilderment before continuing, "What's your name?"  
  
"My name is Toast DeJubbyjub, but you, chibi no aoi, may call me 'Toast,'" the female replied after a few moments.  
  
"Okay," said a somewhat confused Bloo. After he got over the confusion he added,  
"I'm Bloo. Nice to meet ya... I think."  
  
"Nice," commented Toast. "Now shoo, Bloo."  
  
"Uh, okay. See ya later."  
  
"Ja ne."  
  
After a moment, Blooregard Q. Kazoo closed the door and headed back the way he came wondering whether Frances was still angry with him. Before he realized it, the small, blue,  
imaginary friend was back in the familiar part of the house. Bloo turned about while hoping that he would see the other hallway.  
  
All he saw, however, was the wall directly behind him.

* * *

So, what did you think, dear reader? Please press the little go button down there and tell me! Many thanks,

Cartoonsey


	2. Violence!

Bored Blooregard Chapter the Second  
A "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" fanfiction  
Written by Cartoonsey DeJubbyjub  
  
Disclaimer: All I own are Toast and "Senorita Icy". I ate the chocolate, and the hallway's gone and wandered off again. --;  
  
Answers to Reviewers:

Mr.M7: More like a kitten-girl, really. No, it was Japanese for "blue runt." Thank you, and yes, there is more!  
Sabertooth Kitty: Thank you! I'll try; inspiration is a fickle creature.  
Miss Understood Genious: Thank you. I'll try, but my muse likes to tease me.

* * *

"...So, what you're saying is that you found a hallway that disappeared?"  
  
Blooregard Q. Kazoo eagerly nodded as he confirmed Mac's summary of the small, blue, imaginary friend's strange trip of earlier that day. The eight-year-old looked skeptically at his best idea. He knew well enough that Bloo would tell the occassional lie if he could get away with it. This seemed too absurd for one of the young creation's tales, however.  
  
"Um, I'm sorry, but that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, Bloo," Wilt commented with a bewildered look at Eduardo who returned the gaze. "Are you sure you didn't dream it up? You _did_ say you were tired, right?"  
  
Doubt crept over the blue, imaginary friend's face. The tale _was_ pretty "out there." Yet, it had been so real that he hadn't questioned it. As the tall, basketball playing, imaginary friend had pointed out, however, Blooregard _had_ been very tired that morning. If he entire experience was but a dream, though, a lot would be explained.  
  
It would explain, for example, his blushing and the strange feeling in his stomach when he'd seen and had spoken to Toast. There wasn't a single, logical reason for his behavior. Not one. Not even a slightly reasonable one. There wasn't one that wasn't absolutely stupid. No, siree. There-  
  
"**COCO!!!**"  
  
The aforementioned, imaginary friend nearly cause Bloo to leap out of his own skin. Acting as though he'd narrowly escaped having a heart attack, Mac's best idea ever gave the female a look of both fright and annoyance.  
  
"Did ya _need_ something, Coco?" an annoyed and angered Bloo demanded.  
  
"Co."  
  
"Then why did you scream?!"  
  
"Now, now, Bloo, there's no reason to lose your-"  
  
"Shut it, Wilt," growled the smallest of the imaginary friends in the immediate area. "This is between me and the chicken."  
  
Coco gave a kind of squawk-ish war cry and charged at Bloo who immediately scrambled out of her way and onto the pool table. The living, blue blanket might have been a bit foolish at times but he wasn't completely stupid.  
  
Not that this prevented him from knocking over nearly everything that wasn't bolted to the floor in his desperate, terror driven rush to escape the enraged, island born, imaginary friend.  
  
Mac quickly shut and locked the door to keep Frances or, worse, Mr. Herriman from seeing the chaotic state that the game room had become. Eduardo cried, snatched up Bloo, and clutched the smaller, imaginary friend to himself as he fled to the other side of the room and attempted to hide behind an overturned chair. Wilt had managed to grab Coco and lift her up off the ground and into what would have been a crushing half hug had his arm not been so long.  
  
"**SHE'S GONNA KILL ME!!!**" Bloo screamed as he attempted to get away from Eduardo and the lack of somewhere to run to.  
  
"No hurt Azul!" the large, imaginary friend wailed as Coco madly struggled against Wilt's hold on her.  
  
"Coco, please clam down!" Wilt begged as he began to lose his grip on the seemingly crazed creature.  
  
"**COCO CO CO COCOCOCO _COCO_**!!!"  
  
"You guys, someone's coming," Mac said quietly and frightenedly, his ear to the door.  
  
All of the imaginary friends froze. Sure enough, the sound of someone wering high heels was getting louder and louder as the person came closer and closer. Silence choked the room for a pain filled moment of horror as the group took in the damage to the game room. The owner of the high heels began to try to open the locked door. Whoever was on the other side had just pulled a key ring from the sound of things. A click echoed hollowly as the key was turned in the lock, and possibly the only thing between Bloo and expulsion from Foster's was removed.  
  
"...Help me..."  
  
Dead silence filled the room as the door slowly opened to reveal the quintet's doom...  
  
...in the form of a rather tall, willowy-looking, mostly black, zoned out, near jester-like, imaginary friend.  
  
There was an nervous pause as she barely took in the scene of destruction. Then there was a shriek as the female noticed Wilt and completely woke up.  
  
"_YOU!!_"  
  
She furiously glared at the taller, imaginary friend, her pale, icy-blue eyes becoming red in an instant. She stormed over to him, nearly as tall as he. She raised a clawed hand as though to give him a vicious slap across the face. She settled for slapping him quite forcefully instead.  
  
Wilt looked completely shocked for a few moments before a strangely amused smile spread across his face. The female's eyes went back to the cold, pale, icy-blue color of before as she stared at him for about five seconds before turning her wintery gaze to the other four. Mac and Bloo shuddered.  
  
"Hello, Coco," she said in a voice that seemed to freeze the very air. "Buenes tardes, Eduardo."  
  
Coco cheerfully smiled and said something to the effect of good afternoon as well. The purple-furred, imaginary friend nervously gulped before replying.  
  
"Hola, Senorita Icy."

* * *

Author's Notes: 

"Buenes tardes" means "good afternoon."

If my Spanish is incorrect, please tell me how to correct it. It's been a little while since I finished taking my last Spanish class.

Does anyone know how to get an 'n' with the tilda (the little squigglely line that's on the key right beneath the escape key) over it? Please tell me if you do. In case you're wondering, dear reader, no, this isn't a self-insert. This particular Icy is a character I created along with Toast. 

About the "fight scene": Please forgive me, dear reader, if Coco seems out of character. My muse put me at gun point and demanded I write it. --; I think it turned out okay, but if you can think of a better way I could have written it or anything else, please tell me so. Just push that little "go" button down there.

I"ll have the next chapter out as soon as I get it typed up!

Thank you,  
  
Cartoonsey


	3. Cute!

Bored Blooregard: Chapter the Third  
A "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" fanfiction  
Written by Cartoonsey DeJubbyjub  
  
Disclaimer: All I own are Toast, Icy, and the Hallway. Craig McCracken owns "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends."

* * *

Review Thankyous: 

Okay, I accidentally put the answers to the reviews for the second chapter on the second chapter. --; So, I'm answering those reviews again and this time I'm putting them on this, the third chapter, along with answers to new reivews for the first chapter. Thank you to all of the dear reviewers out there. Your comments really do mean a lot to me.  
  
Sabertooth Kitty: I'm glad you like the story so far. Here's the next chapter finally!  
  
Miss Understood Genious: Thank you! I'm glad you find the idea interesting.  
  
Mr.M7: Wilt gets hurt because it's important to the plot. I think. As for the muse, I know she's evil but she's helping to keep this story going, so I have to keep her. She's good for the angsty bits, and I'm hoping shes gonna be helpful with the romantic bits as well.  
  
Barry I. Grauman: I think you must be psychic or something because... Well, I don't want to really give away anything, but your thoughts are running on the right track.  
  
Kelt: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the story and the artwork in Toast's room, even if you couldn't actually see any of it. I didn't realize that it seemed to all be in Bloo's imagination, or that Toast seemed more like a memory than an actual, imaginary friend. It's a very interesting idea, though...  
  
Mangolious Kiwi: I'm glad you like the story! Sorry about the grammar errors. I try to get them all before I post the story, but sometimes they manage to slip past... I update whenever I finish a chapter, however, inspiration comes and goes at it pleases, as does my muse. I'm happy that you like Toast's character, although, I'm not actually sure that she was _in _character! o.o; oops!  
  
Again, thank you all for reviewing! Now on with the show!  
  
Author's note: This chapter is gonna be from Toast's point of view, kind of, seeing as she _is_ supposed to be the other main character and all. Hopefully this will clear up any confusion or curiousity about where Icy and Toast have come from, as well as why the hallway Bloo went down mysteriously just disappeared... 

'...' means thoughts  
"..." means speech

* * *

It was Monday, and that fact alone could put Toast DeJubbyjub in a bad mood. The Mondays themselves weren't bad, it was what happened on Mondays that made the small, imaginary friend regret ever waking up. Nothing particularly bad had happened, yet she couldn't help but feel that something _not good_ was going to occur. This wasn't helping her at all because she had just had breakfast and was feeling slightly ill as she always did when she got a bad feeling about the future.  
  
Now, Toast was a bit gifted in the mental powers area and so immendiately knew when the imaginary friend stepped into the Wandering Hallway, so called because of its tendency to go wandering off in the middle of the day and leave you wondering where the devil it had gotten off to. She knew he must have had quite a few things on his mind to end up in the Hallway. The fact that he was lost and studying the doorknobs only added to the many thoughts that were running through his, and, due to her abilities, Toast's, minds.  
  
'How long have I been down here'  
'...And where _am_ I, anyway? Somebody's _gotta_ live down here, so I'll just ask whoever lives in this room over here.'  
'...I wonder what Mac's doing right now...'  
'...Man, this place creeps me out! There's spiderwebs all _over_ the place! Doesn't Frankie ever clean this place up? Ewwww, that's a dead _roach!_'  
'...I bet Mac's waiting for the bus or something. I hope Terrance isn't being a jerk...'  
'...I wonder who owns all the books laying around. They look like ancient'  
'...I'm hungry. I probably should've eaten something before I started walking around...'  
'...I wonder if Mac ate breakfast today...'  
'...The colors around here are _weird!_'  
'...I bet Eduardo would be scared out of his mind if he saw _this_ place! It has "haunted house" written all over it!'  
  
'This room' turned out to be Toast's, much to the brown and tan, imaginary friend's curiousity. When the door to her room opened, she was going to have a very good look at the person who peered in through it and so put her book down when she heard the telltale squeak of the hinges.  
  
He was small, about her height, had a somewhat blank look on his face, and was only halfway through the door. He was also blue, from head to, for lack of a better word, foot. The imaginary friend, even after Toast had gone back to her music and book, kept right on staring at her. She began to feel a bit selfconcious and one of her tails twitched, causing her to accidentally switch the station on the radio to a pop song.  
  
The following lack of conversation made Toast want to squirm or at least scream several obscenities. While still reading she decided to break the nerve twisting silence.  
  
"You dance?" she asked of the blue, imaginary friend.  
  
He said nothing for several moments before he seemed to realize that she had spoken to him.  
  
"...Huh?"  
  
"You dance?" she patiently repeated.  
  
"Uh, sometimes, I guess, when Mac wants to," came the answer. Toast heard him mentally add, 'Or when no one's around to see me look like an idiot. Oooh, or when Mac plays that one song! That's _fun_!'  
  
"Your creator still keeps you, huh?" Toast wondered aloud while inwardly wondering why this imaginary friend was here if that was case.  
  
"Sorta," was the blue one's response. "His mom wanted me gone, so I stay here and won't get adopted as long as he visits everyday."  
  
'Which means I need to get the heck outta here before eight or I'll have to wait until _tomorrow_ to see Mac! But with my sense of direction, getting _anywhere_'s not gonna be happening any time too soon.' A mental sigh. 'Ya know, it really stinks having to stay here instead of with Mac at his house. I never thought I'd wind up missing him so much... And I'm technically still his imaginary friend!!'  
  
Something painful seemed to grip Toast's chest. How often had she longed to see her now late creator? She _had_ to help this imaginary friend get back to the part of the home that, generally, stayed put so that he could see his kid.  
  
Toast looked up from her book as one of her tails changed the music and said, "You want to get back to the 'normal' part of Foster's."  
  
The other, imaginary friend said nothing and gazed at her in wonder and shocked speechlessness.  
  
"Go back the way you came," the feline fairy explained as she recalled how to get in or out of the Wandering Hallway. "Don't think about it."  
  
When the small, blue, imaginary friend said nothing and did nothing, Toast decided to try a different tactic, "Just get your butt out of my doorway and do it."  
  
Again, nothing happened around her doorway, so Toast tried yet another tactic at getting him to move, "Before I decide to keep you as a pet."  
  
...He stared at her and thought to think to himself, 'Ya know, she's kinda cute.' Something like horror ran through him as he quickly thought, 'Not that I think she's cute, just that she's cute like a teddy bear's cute! Yeah!' And on another level at the same time, 'Wait a second, if she can read my thoughts, then what if she just read _that_?! No, way that can happen though. That stuff only happens in sci-fi and "Lord of the Rings" movies. Yeah, that doesn't ever happen in real life...'  
  
'...Right?'  
  
Feeling embarrassed and wishing she knew how to turn off her ability to hear thoughts, Toast struggled to fight off a blush and, desperate to be rid of the blue, imaginary friend, asked, "...Do the words 'permanently trapped in a living nightmare' mean anything to you?"  
  
'I'm dead.'  
'...I think she wants to know why I'm standing here, looking like a total moron...'  
'...I wonder what her name is...'  
  
Looking embarrased and blushing a nice shade of red, the lost, imaginary friend trailed off as he said, "I was just kinda wondering..."  
  
"Yes, chibi no aoi?" Toast lapsed into Japanese for a brief moment and decided she like the nickname.  
  
Bewilderment passed over the other's face briefly and his mouth seemed to struggle to figure out how to form words before he continued, "What's your name?"  
  
Surprised but vaguely pleased, and after a few moments, the fairy feline answered, "My name is Toast DeJubbyjub, but you, chibi no aoi, may call me 'Toast.'"  
  
"Okay," said the somewhat confused, blue, imaginary friend. After he got over the confusion he added, "I'm Bloo. Nice to meet ya... I think."  
  
Deciding she liked his name but still wanted him to go away, for now, Toast commented, "Nice. Now shoo, Bloo."  
  
"Uh, okay. See ya later."  
  
"Ja ne."  
  
After Bloo closed the door and started to head back the way he came, Toast heard him thinking only one thing to himself.  
  
'I wonder if Frankie's still mad at me...'  
  
A smile flickered onto the female, imaginary friend's face as she remembered the small red head who used to call Madame Foster "Gwandma." Perhaps it was time, after all of these sixteen years, for the residents of the Wandering Hallway to pay the rest of the home a visit. Kitie and Notalons could use the sunlight, and Icy could do with the presence of a certain, tall, red someone. Now that the population of the house had decreased, the quartet had a good excuse to go explore the rest of the house and get reaccquainted with it.  
  
Besides all of that, Toast felt like finding out more about this Bloo and his kid. 

Afterall, he'd been kinda cute, too.

* * *

Author's Notes:  
  
Well, dear reader, now you know why there was a wall behind Bloo when there should have been a hallway. Don't worry; I haven't forgotten about the cliffhanger in chapter two. I'm just trying to figure out how to write the next part to it.  
  
And for those who wonder about these kind of things, this story takes place just after "World Wide Wabbit" and the -oops, almost ruined it for those who haven't seen the episode yet! Sorry about that.  
  
Please leave me a review and tell me what you think! Just press that little "go" button down there. Thanks,  
  
Cartoonsey 


	4. Return!

Bored Blooregard Chapter the fourth A "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" fanfiction Written by Cartoonsey DeJubbyjub  
  
Answers to Reviews:

Sabertooth Kitty: Thank you, I'm glad you think it's cute. Yes, you would be very correct about the pairings.  
Miss Understood Genius: Thank you! I'm glad it makes more sense to you now.  
Mangolious Kiwi: I try to get the right balance of details and dialogue, but it can be very tricky... Thanks!  
Barry I. Grauman: It's good to know that somebody out there knows what the heck the characters are supposed to do, because I honestly am just guessing at this... And your welcome! -  
I'm sorry if I've missed anybody; I answer the reviews I see at the moment, but sometimes more come in... Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

"..." means speech  
'...' means thoughts  
/.../ means telepathy

* * *

Toast streched and yawned, her square/diamond-shaped hands reaching towards the almost unseen ceiling. She had finally finished her book and was feeling ready to go and find her fascinating visitor from earlier. Although she would never tell Icy for fear of making history repeat itself, the small, brown and tan, imaginary friend thought that Bloo's feelings for his creator were familiar. Like her own feelings for her late creator while she had still been alive familiar.  
  
"Does that make him a trouble maker?" Toast wondered aloud. A grin erupted over her face as she added, "Cause if it doesssssss, I have a new riiiiiival!"  
  
Although she gave most people the impression that she was innocent and a perfect angel to boot, Toast could quite quickly prove her love for causing chaos within a matter of milliseconds. Unless you made or enforced the rules that is. Mr. Herriman would never know that sweet, little Miss Toast was actually the biggest trouble maker in the history of Foster's, minus Bloo. Yes, Toast had caused quite the amount of mischief once. Well, when she could get away from Icy.  
  
"Toast, who was our visitor?"  
  
'Speak of the devil,' was the thought that ran through the small, imaginary friend's mind. To the owner of the voice she thought, /His name is Bloo. And he's still got his kid./  
  
"...Hmmm, most intriguing," mummured the shadow just within Toast's sight of the hallway. The voice turned sharp as the shadow added, "You're not thinking of starting another 'war' are you, Toast? The last was enough! You need to start behaving like-"  
  
"Ah, go get stuffed, ya old bat," the trouble maker grinned. Toast's words sounded like sugar as she added, "I would _never ever dream o_f breaking a rule, honorable big sister. How could you possibly think so lowly of me?"  
  
"Your sarcasm is amusing but most certainly unnecesary," was the reply as the shadow stepped into the gentle yellow hues escaping Toast's room.  
  
The shadow was revealed to be a most curious looking, feline creature. She was nearly eight feet tall and seemed to be made of different blues, the dominant one being navy. Her hair style made her look far more like a medival jester than a cat, however, and the lack of whiskers and huge ears seemed to emphasize the idea of this being a highly fun, and funny, imaginary friend to hang around. If someone were to approach Icy DeJubbyjub with that mindset, though, he or she was likely to find himself or herself with nightmares and a few less appendages. Icy was violent in the extreme when angered, upset, offened, or simply felt that you had done something bad. Her previous boyfriend could tell you all about-  
  
Toast yelped as pain shot through her head. She rubbed the wounded area and looked up to see Icy glaring down at her.  
  
"You're permitting your mind to wander, Toast-chan," the taller of the two calmly explained. "And you haven't answered my question."  
  
"What question?" was the muttered inquiry.  
  
"I asked whether you have gotten it into your mind to go wandering out of the hallway, and, if so, if I might join you," Icy patiently repeated. A rare smile graced her normally stone-like face as she added, "Sixteen years have gone by since last I visited the main area of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, and I don't need to tell you that I miss it."  
  
An evil smirk found its way onto Toast's face. She knew that "it" was actually some_one._ A very tall, _red_ someone. The mischivious creation also knew that she had just been given the perfect oppurtunity to wreck havoc once more as well as play Cupid. Icy's eyes said quite clearly to the smaller of the two that Icy knew what the other knew.  
  
And Toast knew she was happy about it.  
  
--- One Minute, Three Detours, and a Dead End Later ---  
  
"Tell me, _dear_est little Toast," growled Icy, "where we are again."  
  
"I told you already," was the reply. "I know exactly where _we_ are but I have no idea where the rest of the house is."  
  
The two were, in short, hopelessly lost. It appeared that sixteen years was more than long enough to completely annihilate Toast's ability to navigate the old, Victorian mansion. Then again, Toast had never been capable of _not_ getting lost in the Home, and Icy found herself wondering why in the world she had agreed to allow the smaller to lead them anywhere.  
  
/It's by pure luck alone that we haven't gotten stuck up on the roof,/ was the annoyed thought that passed through her mind and into her sister's. /And if we _do_ end up there, I _will_ hurt you, Toast DeJubbyjub./  
  
"**IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE TOO DUMB TO FIGURE OUT WHERE WE ARE!!**" Toast suddenly screamed in frustration.  
  
Icy's eyes flashed a beautiful scarlet-like red as she unsheathed a lovely set of nightmarishly sharp claws. 

Toast's pupils became mere specks, and her ears flattened against her head.

Silence reigned over the unused hallway for all of two blessedly peaceful seconds as a small bird cheerfully twitered just outside the nearest window.

* * *

Down in the game room, Wilt and the others curiously, and a bit uneasily, turned their faces to the ceiling as what sounded like a faint explosion, and the protest of something large and solid (like, say, a door, for example) as it was twisted into something else, sounded. A shiver went through the basketball loving, imaginary friend. He mostly didn't want to think about what the sounds undoubtedly were signaling... 

Bloo, on the other hand, was beyond curiousity. He very probably would've immediately run off to investigate the noises had Mac not quickly intervened and had not a small, slightly ruffled bird disgustedly flown through the window and out the door of the room.

"Uh, so what happened after you opened the door?" the boy asked, genuinely curious about the events of earlier that morning that Bloo had been insisting had occured. Given the place, Mac couldn't honestly say that they weren't possible.

Bloo's eyes shot back to his creator, "Huh? Oh, yeah! Well, there was the weird looking girl..."

* * *

...A groan filled the hallway as Toast awoke to find herself dizzy and hurting in several places. She should've known better than to have done that, but sometimes the small, imaginary friend just couldn't keep her mouth shut. Considering the trouble it had gotten her into the past thirty years, anyone would think that she _really_ should have known better. 

"Come along, little one," Icy calmly walked down a different hallway. "I know where we are and how to get to the kitchens from here."  
  
'Sure you do,' Toast mentally muttered to herself as she climbed to her feet and followed the tall, imaginary friend. '...Duh, Toast, she probably does...She was the one to get us off the roof...'  
  
Sure enough, Icy's memory proved to be as sharp as ever, and soon the both were able to eat a slightly late lunch and speak with Mr. Herriman. He gave the two of them sixteen years worth of updates in two minutes, via Frances and a new key ring (He gave Icy the key ring. Toast had "accidentally" lost the last one she'd been given, and Madame Foster had insisted that only Icy be given one this time around after the owner of the home had recently found the last one covered in what appeared to be bread crumbs and grape jelly.), and sent them off to "go do whatever it is you two do" before telling the younger Foster of the house to start on a seemingly endless list of chores. Toast suffered another assault but felt it was worth it to get Icy out of the area. The taller was infamous for volunteering whoever was around her for chores.

The smaller counted forty two visible red lines on her small body as she and Icy continued along towards what had once been Icy's favorite haunt: the library, study area, general "let's hang out and have a groovy time" place, and the only location within the boundaries of the Home where Toast had managed to privately set a personal record of reading one thousand poems in under twenty-three hours. Not even the older of the two creations of the now late Miss DeJubbyjub could read that much without needing a break, and Icy was a literature fanatic.

'...perhaps so, but could it be possible for him to have..?'

Toast almost ran into a wall out of shock. Never before in all her life had she ever heard any of Icy's thoughts. The older sister had always seemed to have a natural ability to block the younger's telepathy. What was this she was hearing though?

'I doubt it. He wasn't one to ever give up patience, was he? Afterall, look what he managed with you. You swore to never feel such things for anyone, but- **TOAST, GET OUT OF MY MIND THIS INSTANT**!!!"

The small, brown and tan, imaginary friend, fearing a particular nasty clawing up this time around, turned and fled down random hallways, not once in a full minute stopping to see if Icy was even giving chase. Finally, however, Toast's little legs gave out, and she collapsed.

* * *

It was who knows how much later when Toast finally came to. She felt tired, hungry, in need of a bath, and very much alone. This was a perfect example of why she so loathed Mondays. Everything went wrong on a Monday. If you had a good plan and it was set for Monday, it was sure to fail. If you had a project due on Monday, you were sure to lose it. And if you had to pee and were in a foreign amusement park or mall, you were sure to be able to _not_ find a toilet, regardless of how badly you had to go. 

...Sweet seeds of sandy strawberries, why _did_ she have to have such rotten luck when it came to figuring out where in the name of pencils she was? Toast didn't have the slightest idea of where she was headed, but hopefully it wasn't the roof. That place was cursed, she just knew it was. No matter how hard she tried to get off of it, she never could. And she'd been stuck up there _ten times_ to the day. Cursing her sense of direction, Toast quickly changed hallways; she could recognize the door to the roof if nothing else in this house.

Fifty-seven hallway changes and thirty-eight wrong doors later, Toast found herself in front of yet _another _door she didn't recognize. She shook with anger and frustration and told the unfamiliar area exactly what she thought of it.

"Hey, Toast!"

The small, imaginary friend stopped her mindless ranting about stupid, crazy houses and turned to see who had addressed her. To Toast's absolute horror, there stood Wilt, a limb shorter, several scars richer, and only one fully functioning eye.

She gaped, Wilt grinned, Coco coco-ed a greeting, Bloo waved hi, Mac smiled, Icy glared, and Eduardo let out a sob as he dashed forward, snatched Toast off the ground, and crushed her against his chest out of pure joy.

"Hermanita!!!"

* * *

Author's notes: 

Okay. Nobody kill me if I used "hermanita" incorrectly. Words get translated in strange ways occasionally, and I don't wanna have just had Eduardo call Toast something indecent. I don't know how it could happen, but it could. -.- You'd be surprised at how things in one language can mean a totally different thing in another....

I hope you enjoyed the fourth chapter, dear reader. Please tell me what you think of it by pressing that little "go" button down there...  
  
Thanks,  
  
Cartoonsey


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